


end of the night

by cinemantagonist



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Kind of Hurt/Comfort, theyre so lonely, this takes place during season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinemantagonist/pseuds/cinemantagonist
Summary: "But if this softened Catra’s blow the next day, hushed her shout, protected Lonnie’s teammates from her rage, she would spend every night by Catra’s thigh, breathing into her nerves. And if she could bear to admit it, she’d longed for that touch her whole life, however bitter."Catra and Lonnie spend the night together.
Relationships: Catra/Lonnie (She-ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	end of the night

The Fright Zone shed darkness over the deeds committed in the dead of the night. It blocked the moon’s glow and the only way by which Lonnie could see her way was by the hazy overhead lights. It had been several weeks since the first affair, and nearly every night since, Lonnie and Catra threw themselves onto each other: a hasty interlude. There was nothing afterward, just Catra turning her bare back to the room and Lonnie redressing for the morning work. Lonnie knew better, she’d been taught: you don’t sleep with your superiors, not if you want to ever climb the ranks, not if authority is within your grasp. But the aspirations stretching far into the future had turned dull and the soldiers each found themselves preserving their bodies and minds only for the next day at a time. They were so close to victory, as they’d been told, and told nothing else. But the vision of glory had begun to lose its color, and even Catra seemed more despondent than ever. 

_ Don’t express vulnerability to your superiors _ . But if this softened Catra’s blow the next day, hushed her shout, protected Lonnie’s teammates from her rage, she would spend every night by Catra’s thigh, breathing into her nerves. And if she could bear to admit it, she’d longed for that touch her whole life, however bitter. 

Silent steps down the corridor led Lonnie to her force captain’s quarters. She knew the way blind by now. It didn’t take a knock, just a slow slide of the door to alert Catra of her presence. She was lying on her stomach when Lonnie entered, feigning sleep. She was shirtless, her back bare, her top in a heap by the bed.

“It’s me,” Lonnie said in a low voice, edging toward the cot and sitting against the rail, not quite atop the mattress. She knew Catra was awake. It would be a marvel if she weren’t. 

Catra’s tail twitched in acknowledgement, but she did not otherwise move. This was sometimes how it was, if not an immediate leap onto her and a tearing of her clothes. It was depression or mania, never once in between. 

Lonnie peeled off her shirt and lay in the empty space by Catra’s side, and buried a hand in the mess of Catra’s hair. She felt her back shiver from the touch, and she stretched, a tremor over her body, and sat up, leaning on her elbows. She glared at Lonnie with ingenuine enmity, and Lonnie was too tired not to meet her gaze evenly. Catra gave up the hard exterior and crumpled onto Lonnie’s chest, nuzzling into the dip of her neck. Lonnie continued to brush through Catra’s mane with one hand and draw her nails down Catra’s spine with the other. 

Her captain only sighed against her neck, arching her back to welcome the touch, and Lonnie closed her eyes, drifting with the rhythm, nearly dozing. It took so much effort to sleep when she was alone, even when she thought of the early morning she’d face in mere hours. Somehow still, the rumble of Catra’s low purr against her chest calmed her mind and allowed her eyelids to rest. She knew she couldn’t be caught in her force captain’s bed at dawn—they’d had too many close calls after they found themselves too exhausted to part—but she was asleep before she could summon the strength to open her eyes. 

She woke with a jolt when Catra raised herself up and straddled Lonnie’s waist, legs on either side of her. Lonnie gazed up, eyes again adjusting to the darkness, and she felt Catra tugging the edge of her bra. Sleepily, Lonnie helped her pull the garment over her head, tossing it on the floor. Catra leaned down and put her mouth to Lonnie’s chest, meeting no resistance, only a faint groan from behind Lonnie’s teeth.

In minutes, the two were tangled in the sheets, breathing labored from one lip to another, a desperate undoing, a push and pull. Catra’s chest rose and fell, releasing noises she muffled with her wrist, as Lonnie, ever diligent, worked to relieve the both of them.

Then it was finished, in a sensation akin to the thrill of survival, and they fell heavy against each other, breath catching on the route to their lungs. Not for the first time, Lonnie felt the wet of tears against Catra’s cheeks as she began to cry.

Perhaps it was the release, so intense that it broke through her willpower, or maybe, even, she felt so trusting of Lonnie as to expose herself. Perhaps just the nature of Lonnie’s touch was torture. 

Lonnie tiredly wiped away a tear with her thumb, making no effort to console her captain. There were no words that could heal her pain, and she wouldn’t take kindly to the pity either way.

So they lay in silence, Lonnie’s palm against Catra’s cheek, until they couldn’t any longer. Lonnie pulled herself up, feeling as a magnet to her captain’s side, and pulled her clothing back on. She needed to shower, she needed to review the day’s plans, she needed to be anywhere but here. She turned, despite herself, to see Catra’s face. Her eyes focused on the spot Lonnie had been, vacant and glassy. 

Lonnie turned back her head before she could climb back into the bed beside Catra, and strode to the door. 

She pretended, for the both of them, that she didn’t hear Catra’s soft voice behind her ask her stay.

Lonnie slid open the door silently and shut it behind her, escaping down the hall.

The Fright Zone cast silence over the words uttered at the end of the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first public fic for she-ra: princesses of power. i'll be posting more fanfiction eventually, i'm just testing the waters for now. thanks for reading!


End file.
